Zusammen
by Inita
Summary: BD:G. Birthday gift for Loomena/Loome. Though neither one had really gave it much thought, they were always there for one another... in more ways than one. Pulling each other through each trial of life was difficult, but it all pays off. Jiro/Kluke.


**A/N****:** _Hi everyone :D Sorry this fanfic is so late... particularly to a certain someone, but I've had so much going on right now in my 'offline-life'... I don't want to talk about it so um... please don't ask ^^; Regardless, it's not anywhere near what I wanted, which is probably because I'm tired, but it's here, so that's what counts, right?_

**Loomena: **_I am __**so sorry **__that this is late :( And I'm also sorry this fanfic isn't three chapters like I promised... Too much added on to previous stress, and I noticed that I'm /really/ running out of time :( I mean... a mont :/ That's absurd... The fact that I kept talking about it makes it ten times worse -.- But it's /finally/ done... Here's your fanfic, Loome; I didn't... know what to write – genre wise... Also, some Jiro/Shu friendship snuck in here without me even realizing it... Plus, I can't begin to thank you enough for reviewing all my fanfics... I'm sorry I haven't been able to do the same for you ;( But anyway, now I'm just ranting, so please continue on and read :D_

_Blue Dragon Game  
4 Events  
__**Ages are the same as they are in the game (i.e: Kluke is 16 in the first game, and 18 in the last)**__  
Jiro/Kluke  
light Shu/Sahlia, Jiro/Shu friendship, light Sahlia/Shu/Kluke, light Jiro/Zola friendship_

_I'm so tired of school right now it's ridiculous... On top of that, to those who have an art class: __**Be careful when using that carving tool for linoleum/carving projects**__ :/ It's not fun getting your thumb sliced to the point where if you apply pressure to one side, the cut tears open again :/ Okay, TMI, I know, but it's just a little warning to my little artists-in-training ^^_

_**Important Note: **__I will be rewriting "__**Blue Dragon: High School**__" (sorry!) and I think I may end up deleting it... Ever since "__**Blaze in the Labyrinth**__", and "__**Mario and Sonic at the Olympic Winter Games**__", it's the fanfic that has the highest reviews out of all my other writings. I will also be writing a new fanfic (if I don't get around to the high school one) that will have a school-based plot, but with some... er, 'differences' ^^; __**I will be deleting some fanfics in the right after I upload this fanfic**__. Title is still in progress, but keep an eye out for it sometime after February._

_**Important Note 2: **__Though I have been saying this for months, I'm going to try and avoid coming online save for updating my profile starting __**February 3**__**rd**__. I will not return until __**March 16**__**th **__due to personal reasons. Email will be open for chatting – I'm referring mainly to my friends such as Kitty, Loome herself, and Jess, who all have my email. Any who __**communicate with me in any other way (i.e: texting/phone)**__, __**then any questions, send me a message/text.**__ Those who know me in real life...? Yeah, well... You get the idea :/ But during this month, I'm going to catch up on birthday fanfics as well as dedicate it to "__**Blaze in the Labyrinth**__" because it's a leap-year and... well... we don't have /any/ birthdays in February :/ And if we do, then... Well, I forgot them ^^;_

_**Important Note 3: **__While I'm away – before I leave, even – __**please visit my profile for **_**ANY**_** updates**__. I'm going to try and upload that fanfic I was talking about before February, but I doubt that will happen... If worse comes to worse, __**I **__**will upload it sometime in the middle of February**__._

_This one shot was inspired by the __**Pentagonal Gate**__, which is five events that __**are not **__in chronological order, but link up to one theme. __**However! **__I was only able to fit in __**four scenes **__due to lack of time and inspiration, so I guess you could call it the __**Square Gate**__, ah ha (no refunds!)... -gets shot-_

_Title is German and it translates to: **Together**._

_... And that's about it._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Blue Dragon._

/

_**1. **__**Apart**_

She tugs sharply at the ribbon adorning her hair, trying to get it to stay put. It is, after all, the least she could do... Right now, after the most recent events, she's too distracted to take note of the precise pain that lances across her scalp. She has already been hit with enough pain that the rest that bombards her are just shunned – cast away. She doesn't notice. Her mental concentration is so diluted that she doesn't realize where she is until she's standing in _their _room, eyes locked on to the bookshelf that held such precious memories. Numbly, she reaches up and drags her hand along the spines, pausing at the green with gold etchings – her mother's. And as she extracts it from its seat on the shelf, Kluke already feels a large lump forming in her throat. She allows herself to sink to the floor before pushing aside the cover.

It's been _three weeks_, but it seemed _so much longer_...

Her gazes have been cast at these pages for so long that she can nearly recite them. When Kluke was younger, she had snuck into her parents room while they were outside, thus resulting in her knowledge of her parent's 'feelings' towards her. She wasn't originally going to read them, but dad was always so quiet around her and while he did give her the occasional 'pat on the back' for something good she did, he was a bit private about his emotions. Her mother was quite the opposite, whereas she didn't wear her emotions on her sleeve, but she wasn't afraid to speak out the truth. Yes, her mother was indeed, the one person she looked up to so much.

"_...keep smiling, my dear Kluke_..."

The words (though there are more than just five) are too much for her and she feels the heavy pressure of tears outline the bottom of her eyes. She wipes at them with her wrist, but when they leave, others yield their spot, thus rendering this action useless. Trying to shake off the emotions – she can't cry now; she's alone, but the very thought of someone possibly walking in is just too much – she rises and grabs the book adjacent to the shelf's wall. Kluke wasn't used to looking at this one as much – or she _was_, but she's too caught up in her misery to notice.

"_...never give up, my beautiful daughter_..."

A sound between a sob and a laugh tears out of her – mom was right: Dad _did _have difficulty expressing his emotions, henceforth why he had to confide it in this little book. Kluke was always tempted to ask, after reading this, how dad's proposal had gone or something along the lines of a first date... Temptation tantalized her, but she desperately pushed it away, because she had a feeling, back then, that she was never _meant _to read these books yet...

Then again, she knows that she'll _never _get an answer. She'll _never _hear her mother laugh at the naïveté or her father after the former shares the 'interesting question'. All the following pages will remain _blank_, devoid of any signatures or small pictures that were put aside for cherished memories.

As each of her parent's words ring throughout her head, a wave of utter inconsolability rams into her at full throttle. And it feels _so real _that she unconsciously feels herself almost tip over...

But she _does_.

Though she feels something – some_one_ – halt her action. She emancipates dully that it _is_ more of a 'someone' rather than a thing, such as a bed. More senses and awareness flow into her when she realises it's not just a person, but it's one of her two friends – _him_. Her body, which has practically began acting before her brain could direct a command, leans into his arms, against the solid torso, the green tunic akin to a comforter. She refuses to grasp hold of him in any way and prefers to hug herself, eyes averted to the ground. The feel of him against her back is good enough, but it isn't enough to prevent the silent tears from sliding down her cheeks.

He can tell how she feels because she's been pushing herself like this for _weeks._ Ever since her parents had been taken away by that monstrous beast, fed to the unsettled depths of their own hometown, Kluke has been _lost_. Maybe not physically, but mentally, she's been waltzing around in a dark abyss, trying to search for a light that was intricate to find – _one that she would need a _guide _to find_. Though he doesn't feel it's necessary to say this to her face (_especially _when she's on the brink of crying), Jiro has a deep feeling that she knows where she is as well. She's just refusing to accept it because she scrutinizes this void as _comfort _more than anything else – almost as if it understood her.

Words will fall on deaf ears, but Jiro wasn't willing to take risks with this. If her state of mind was practically stuck in a pit of despair, who _knows _where it could end up?

His voice is calm and soft, yet stern at the same time – not stern in a _direct, demanding _way, but more of a 'heads up'. And yet, he discovers that even the _words _are out of reach, but he manages to grasp hold after springing up to them. "You're not alone, Kluke... Shu's here for you, _I'm _here for you... Don't think you have to fight this on your own..." It's not so much a physical battle, but it's a battle of _mind_ and a sense of security.

Though despite how lonely she is, despite how upset she was (still _is_, just to a lower extent) Kluke responds by letting the sobs break free – _it's too much, it's too much; just put an end to the misery _– and burying her face into his chest. The arms that wrap around her are more than enough comfort – though she doesn't complain because all in all, it's sweet and right now, she needs the comfort...

/

_**2. Friend**_

It's probably just Jiro being paranoid again, but an alert sensation made him reconsider Shu's feelings towards Kluke. The youngest of the trio was such an outgoing, optimistic boy – rash would be the best way to describe him. Sure he had no little understanding of how Jiro had felt towards Kluke, but that was just... well, _Shu_. He had immediately jumped the gun, assuming that Jiro 'really liked' her as a friend and nothing more, while he thought she was special. The meaning of 'special' in his vocabulary would have to be unique and different – all in a good, innocent way. But that innocence is easily replaced by growth, which is slowly creeping up inside him, spurring a slow yet steady process of maturity. And above everything else, it (sorta) _hurts_ to see how fast Shu is growing.

Jiro had grown up alongside Shu perhaps longer than Kluke – maybe _this _was why he'd become a bit (a _bit_) more enraged when bullies would pick on him (Shu) rather her. Though it took him years to get over that shy stage-

'_My God, Jiro! If you just let them mess with ya, then they're going to think it's okay! So just kick 'em in the ba-'_

A ghost of a smile played on his lips – his best friend could be such a riot without even noticing it. Sometimes Jiro was convinced that Shu was the equivalent key that helped him maneuver around that secluded barrier and into the opening. In a way, Shu _was_ right; bullies had pestered them for days that soon evolved into weeks, and then sprouted to months. It was only when they _both _spoke up when they had learnt their lesson... albeit diminutive. Didn't matter for it _was _a slight improvement in their childish, stupid antics – a little was better than nothing.

'_You wicked, son of a bi-_'

Memories of older boys messing with Shu – _for no particular reason _– stir up a bitter mixture of resentment and anger, fueling a soon-enraged Jiro who takes a step forward, and practically calls – _those bullies _– them every name in the book. Fist tightens to the point where the skin pales, and unconscious senses move it towards the closest surface it can get to. The sudden feel of the adjacent wooden desk beneath his fingers swipes him from his train of thought to reality. Jiro chances a glance at Shu and feels something _tight _lodge in his throat.

_Two days... two, bloody, agonizing days... Shu can't be- He isn't de- He's just overused the magic-_

He rips his gaze away from his (unconscious) best friend, eyes locking onto the hand that had once tightened into a painful grip, nails biting into his palm – but he couldn't feel the pain.

'_Come on, Jiro... All you have to do is just knock on her door, and give her the assignment,_' _a sigh_, _but he still shoots that cheeky grin that means one thing – mischievousness_. '_Stop thinking about the 'what-ifs'? You already have a very bad habit of analyzing things to death._'

A sound that is a mix between a laugh and a restrained sob tears free from his throat. The unshed tears already prick at his eyes, and he prepares himself to not hold back when his emotions become too overbearing. In fact, he's already cradling his head in his hands, elbows rooted to the chipped wooden desk.

_It's not fair... why _him_? Why not _me_? Good God, he's just a _kid!_! He has too much ahead... There's more to his life than just fighting monsters and fighting to save the world_..._ There's too much fighting. That _collar _shouldn't be there_...

A violent need to tear off that cursed collar lashes into his mind, and it's so quick and painful – like a whip. One stroke of that deadly weapon or even a glance is enough to strike worry and fear into anyone's core, and that's exactly what the thought was like. Before, he was just too upset and angry to care about (really) anything else, but perhaps it's the feeling of that thought that snapped him out of his ferocious stupor. _That_, and the feel of his own nails clasping hold of his own hair and the stinging throb that races down his spine scraped upon the scalp. Jiro feels his teeth grit unconsciously – it's his way of preventing himself from _completely _breaking down.

_Because he has to be strong for all three of them – Marumaro and Zola included_. _He isn't the oldest – the one who had looked after them ever since the young age of five – for no reason._

The moon is high that night, and with everyone asleep downstairs, he doesn't expect anyone to be up _this _late. So the sudden feel of a light, warm hand on his shoulder makes him nearly jump out of his skin, and he whirls around to inspect the visitor.

Kluke.

And her face is a painting of sadness, self-hate (_she failed too; or so she thinks and it's one thought that she shares with him_), and undeniable grief. The only silver lining that makes this shattered picture beautiful, is that it's _Kluke_ – she herself is beautiful, ethereal. It was almost hard to believe that this was the girl who had dreamt of being a doctor, who cried nonstop after her parent's death, was now a young lady, pulling herself up so she could help those around her.

No words are said.

They aren't needed even _when _he releases himself, both of them crumbling into a mess of tears and faltered hugs.

_Sometimes it's best to follow your own advice, Jiro – tears really _do _ease your sorrow._

/

_**3. Archery**_

He couldn't remember the last time he was so... _angry_. The aforementioned 'time-he-was-enraged' had occurred twice, the one dealing with Kluke's capture and the death of her and Shu's parents tied at the top of his list. But _this_... _This_ was a completely different story. Some may assume that it's a few puberty-induced hormones stirred up by Kluke fighting with Sahlia over Shu, but no, that wasn't the reason – or at least, it wasn't one of the large contributing factors of his irritation. While both his best friend (Kluke) butt heads against Sahlia over the youngest (Shu), his main focus concerned the danger Kluke was in. And while King Jibral discussed with Zola – about devising a slow-processing plan, no doubt – whilst Shu and Marumaro sulked/paced worriedly in the Jibral castle hallways, Jiro had exiled himself to the castle's garden, having set up... _unique _targets.

Earlier that day, a sorry-excuse-of-a-cart was hauled out of the storage from the laboratory that housed the mechat. Jiro had rendered in multiple objects – _targets_, he corrects himself – from the kitchen, to the Blademasters quarters, and even to his allies' rooms, taking a few belongings that would _shatter_ easily. He wasn't one to break things when angry, but with all the stress and anger, it's climbed up to this resolution. So, after gathering the necessary materials, he stomped off towards his destination – the garden that was used for sparring, archery, whatever.

_Kluke had journeyed with Zola, Shu, and Marumaro to one of the new cubes that had popped up – all under the king's orders. It was unmarked territory by any capital city, and by the sounds of it, though unmarked, reports told Jiro it was home to ferocious enemies. As much as Shu hated it, he had to call a retreat, but in said retreat, the opponents had advanced, so they were forced to split up._

Arrow notches itself into place...

_They had met up – by a mere miracle – but it was with numb realization that Kluke was still missing..._

...bow raised, projectile now pointing at a porcelain teacup resting at the top of the cart a good yards away...

_The cube was _literally _a labyrinth, a maze full of wondrous plant life with Ancient technology askew here and there. Finding Kluke in that jumbled mess would have taken more than a few hours... The aspect that the foes had almost knocked _her _out – yes_, her _– only spoke of how high their offense was. In fact, the whole idea of Kluke losing conscious is what forced Shu to call a retreat – without her, the battle was pretty much over. Their enemies failed to bend out the physical power of punches from shadows, hence why magic spells was the best strategic approach._

Release... _Clang!_

A once beautiful white and blue teacup now rendered to a useless heap of shards with a handle still intact to what was left of the surface.

'_Good_,' Jiro thought grimly, a sour taste residing in the confines of his mouth. Another dour thought had crossed his mind, but he pushed it aside for it was too... _cruel _for him to even consider. Without another word – sorry, _thought_, he readied aim again, this time directed at a vase. The whole point of this was to relieve the anger – _no one will listen to what I have to say anyway_ – and maybe squeeze in a little archery practise. After all, he didn't want to waltz into battle with no experience – training was different. He could walk in with _little knowledge_ and still get out with all limbs intact, thank you very much.

_Kluke and Sahlia fighting over Shu... The way Kluke had stiffened at the sight of the two talking... The odd energy that radiated off of her even _after _she walked away..._

_Tell me, Kluke... If something like that happened with me... Would you get this angry?_

An angry Kluke isn't something he wanted to see, but the way she acted with Sahlia and Shu was almost made out of pure jealousy... It was rare detecting odd energy coming from her, but he had come to the conclusion that it was just envy – because the emotion was _unknown _to him. Honestly, it scared him in a way...

Release... _Smash_! That same vase exploded as the arrow tip rammed into the center.

Five or so objects latter and the feelings in his fingers had dulled, he felt numb. All he cared about was smashing or breaking things for 'target-practise'. Why on earth had it come to _this _conclusion?

"Jiro! What are you doing?_!_"

The marker – a china plate resting on a small pedestal that was _sure _to be a bulls-eye – lucked out; Zola's voice had started him into releasing the arrow at the wrong time, so it only struck the side.

Wanting to groan in irritation, Jiro whipped around, a glare already fixated on his face that the mercenary was unfortunate enough to lock onto. He had never been this angry at Zola before – it's _her _fault why they left... Shu wanted to go back but she refused to listen and they _left _her... they left _Kluke_ – and all the incited emotions refuse to disperse.

Zola's face was a mixture of bitterness and pique, eyebrows knitted together as she made her way over. And to Jiro's astonishment, when they were literally face-to-face (well, not really 'face-to-face' seeing how Jiro was shorter), she planted her foot atop one of her favorite cups. But nonetheless, she _did _respond, "Stop throwing tantrums like a kid, and get inside so we can discuss this." Zola was rarely demanding with him – _especially _Jiro; she knew him as the 'calm' and level-headed one – but this was beyond ridiculous, and it _needed _to stop.

_Temper tantrums? How dare she..._ Though a quick glance around proves that he indeed _was _throwing a tantrum - only a little kid would smash dishware and other breakable decorates, and that's what he had done: Breaking objects for the past half hour. And while the king and his loyal captain had discussed a plan to help out Kluke, Jiro was firing arrows at anything that would (or could) break. In fact, he hadn't helped them at _all... _Too caught up in his anger at so many things that the thought of being crammed into one big room may have forced him to lose his mind.

And even before he has a chance to apologise, Zola places a hand on his shoulder. "I know you're worried – we all are," she averts her gaze to the pieces littering the grass. "But breaking things isn't going to solve anything. I know you're angry with me, Jiro... But I need you to put aside your hostility and work with me this time so we _can_ rescue Kluke."

It's quiet for a moment... and even though it's been about a minute, his response _does _come:

"I will..." And he's about to add in the apology, but Zola gives a stiff nod and walks towards the doors.

_**4. Birthday**_

She's eighteen.

Kluke doesn't feel it.

Inside, she still feels like that little girl who felt so alone, who angrily watched Sahlia dance around Shu – _how _dare _she _- and who looked after her two boys when their backs were turned. The oldest of their now disbanded group was usually the 'guardian', making sure the edges were always straight and checking to see if the knot of their friendship was still intact. But whenever he'd wonder too far, Kluke was always there to fix it and though neither one of her boys notice, it didn't stop that slight feeling of satisfactory from spreading throughout her – she had repaired the bond. Because sometimes that rope that held them together would loosen as time went by or if other people would interfere (like _her_) or if someone neared death (_Shu, lying in that bed, metallic collar that should never be around his neck, not breathing almost, de_-). Even little increments such as a quarrel could cause a crook in the friendship.

It's supposed to be her birthday, but it's probably the saddest she's ever had. The coming of this emotion was due mainly because of Sahlia, but since two years had gone by, she feels a distance between Shu, Jiro, and herself; Kluke feels that this time, the damage has the inability to be repaired – at least not to its full potential. A party right before night – _before _she found herself on the balcony – inside the Jibral Castle was lovely, but it wasn't the same as it had been a long time ago. She misses the birthdays that they celebrated in Talta; the sound of her two friends laughter mixed in with hers is something she has grown to love all her life.

_Ever since, the Atomic Cube incident with Nene and Himiko a year ago, the musical laughter just... died, evaporated into an unknown realm._

Standing on the Jibral Castle Balcony creates a lonely atmosphere around her, enveloping her. She feels too far away and comfort from _anyone _is just too far out of her grasp... Though right now, she'd _kill _to have someone stand beside her and at least talk with her, or at least her talk to that other person. Kluke loved having time to herself, but now, when it _was _her birthday, and how everyone now had huge jobs to attend to, all she wanted was just someone beside her – even Marumaro who could be quite obnoxious at times.

Kluke didn't hate the Devee; she thought he was kind of cute in an innocent-sort-of-way. He had a knack for cheering everyone up, and was probably the only one (besides King Jibral) who could make Zola smile.

"There you are."

On instinct (perhaps a mere stimulus reaction or something built on by endless battles), she whips around only to find her gaze halted on a person she saw less and less each year.

Jiro.

Judging by his constant shifting (for a better standing position, or is it built out of something else?), she can tell he's more nervous than he's letting her in on. But that was one aspect about Jiro that confused her: He was _always _fidgeting or more on edge (not temperamental, no, not Jiro) than usual whenever she was around. It didn't hurt her, but it made Kluke ponder him even more and she'd look through mental files (childhood memories), desperately searching for a resolution only to emerge fruitless seconds (or hours depending on the time she was given) later.

"_Kluke, you have to make a decision!" Shu declares boldly, suddenly standing straight and the look... the look on his face is so serious (it's not anything like the Shu she knows) that she wants to _laugh_. Not out of malice, but the look reminds her of his attitude before he enters a not-so-serious competition._

_Instead, she stammers, "W-What?"_

"_Come on," Jiro chips in, slight impatience (and was that...?) eagerness dripping in the tone. "Tell us already, which one of us do you like?" To emphasize his point, he chances a look at Shu, he glances back – almost in unison... creepy._

Thankful that it's dark out – because if Jiro could see her face, she'd be _mortified_ – Kluke feels a blush spread from her cheeks to her ears._ 'Where'd _that _come from?_' Out of all the silly increments that linger around in her head, her mind produces _that _one... When she was alone, this could've popped up, but for some reason, when Jiro arrived, the thought seemed to dominate over the others. Over the midst of her thoughts, she hears herself invite him over, stumbling on the first word (just a bit).

'_Aw, but you promised, Kluke!' Shu's whine is akin to a toddler who saw a brand new toy or accessory in stores that he just _had _to get – it was very... kiddish so to say. But the thing that separates Shu from being categorized as a toddler is the look of hurt and slight offense scribbled across his face. Instantly, she feels guilt climb up her spine and it's enough to force out:_

'_I know, I'm sorry... But it's just... complicated.' Her gaze averts to Jiro and she can see that he's disappointed as well, but it seems deeper... Was there a difference (that she eluded) between Shu and Jiro's feelings? What exactly was their definition of 'like' anyway...?_

'_It's alright, Kluke... Shu and I can wait, it's fine.' He assures, but there's something beneath the words... It passes over her head just like everything else._

She's too caught up in her musings that she almost misses the calling of her name. Kluke snaps back into reality and looks over, eyes slightly wide. "What'd you say?"

He blinked a few times before responding verbally. "I was just asking if you were alright, I mean... you seemed a bit detached, you know?" The two word-enders are something that he'd always add on if he were nervous or uneasy... More so nervous because Kluke knew he was _never_ uneasy with her... Perhaps a little bit, but it wasn't anything to obsess over.

"I just have a lot on my mind..." Her gaze drifts over to the edge of the balcony, looking down at the large, walkway to the castle doors. "With everything that's been going on it's just hard to keep up with." A small smirk escapes her before she adds the next part. "On top of that, Shu's finally growing up, right?" It's not the best thing to say, but she's run out of ways to cover up her emotions around him. Kluke knows spurring something like that would cause a feeling of nostalgia to hit both of them in the stomach.

"Perhaps, but... we've all changed. I mean, even Marumaro; he still lingers around Zola, but he's growing out of the third person phrases."

This coaxes a short laugh out of her; Marumaro indeed used the last four letters of his name in replacement of 'I' or 'me'. Though last year, he seemed to have backed away from using 'Maro', and began using 'I'. Kluke had a feeling it drove some people up the wall and seeing how Jiro was a 'perfectionist' (for a lack of better word), it's only obvious he'd tackle anything Marumaro would say.

"Kluke? You know, a lot has happened over the years and it may not seem like it, but it's difficult to grasp on to." (He hesitates before his conclusion.) "Sometimes I have a hard time catching up as well... But I wanted to tell you that if... if you need someone to talk to because it's too much, just let me know. I'll be there for you." And even though neither had noticed it, while Jiro had orated the words that needed to be said, he unconsciously moved his hand closer to hers on the banister to the point where they made contact.

Immediately, both pulled back simultaneously and averted their gaze in the opposite direction, blushing lightly.

Though it may have been the aftermath of the party, or maybe something more – Kluke didn't know. But it felt as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Jiro knew her better than she had thought he did (or perhaps she's become more open with emotions) and just hearing him offer to listen was... _great_, really...

'_I'll always be by your side. You can always confide in me_.'

Yes... And he had stayed true to those words.

As the night slowly draws on, she takes his advice and tells him _everything_ from hospital issues, to Shu maturing faster than she could count.

Kluke realizes by the end of the night that her birthday wasn't that bad in the end.

After all, she was able to spend the remainder of it with _him_.

/

**A/N****:**_ And it's finally done... Well, the ending was probably my least favorite :/ Oh, um, some notes before I go on:_

_1) I don't know if those were the exact words written in Kluke's parents' journals... I think I may have gotten them mixed up e.e  
2) Takes place after Disc 2, and before the start of Disc 3. This one was fun to write and I was able to take a phrase from another one of Marshall's (Shu's voice actress) voice overs and squeeze it in here. Be warned: You may see it again in that fanfiction I mentioned ;)_

_3) This was (actually) the first scene I wrote for this fanfic... well, /second/ scene; the first one came long before I decided to do the drabbles. This part was inspired by "Son of Neptune" and it's very similar to an actual scene from that book... Oh, it takes place before Blue Dragon Plus and may be an event explored deeper in one of my other fanfics. It's also given me inspiration for "__**Kage no Ritan**__"._

_4) Post Awakened Shadow. I'm very displeased with it, but I'll let you guys decide._

_That's all... So yeah, please stop by my profile after February 3__rd__; I'll try __**uploading that fanfic I mentioned **__before Friday, but with all the tests I have this week, you guys may not see it until __**March 16**__**th**__or possibly later :/_

_Oh, and one more thing: I will be uploading that fanfic, but if I have free time (which I'm doubting), I'll try posting this drabble that's been on my mind for... a while. Actually, I was tempted to make it Loome's birthday gift, but in the end, I stuck with this. As for what it's about? You'll have to wait and see ;) Last but not least, although belated:_

_~.~.~. Happy Birthday, Loome! ~.~.~._

**~ Inita**


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